


And Then You Woke Up

by deskclutter



Category: The Sandman
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, wakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-22
Updated: 2010-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-10 05:51:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deskclutter/pseuds/deskclutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You dream, and in your dream you attend a Wake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Then You Woke Up

**Title:** And Then You Woke Up  
**Day/Theme:** June 21 / the stars shall withdraw their shining  
**Series:** Sandman  
**Character/Pairing:** Unknown OC, Dream  
**Rating:** G

  
One night, when the thunder snapped at the heels of whipcrack spikes of lightning and rain dropped like bullets through the foggy air, you dreamt of a tall, dark man in a lonely castle.

You'd fallen asleep to the lullaby of the howling wind and the warm embrace of your bed, but here the air was crisp and clear, and though it was night, you could lift your hand and watch the veins running through your fingers, down your arms, and under your clothes to net around your body.

He was quiet and still, and when he spoke, it was as though velvet drapes cloaked the true sound of his voice, making it thick and rich, yet strangely clear, like viewing the world through a transparent glass of water. The place felt clean, yet old and worn.

What you spoke of you don't remember; only the licking tongues of flame that brushed the floor as you two walked, and the pale range of his arm as he gestured to prove his point and the loose sleeve of his robes fell back. The scentlessness of his being and the silk-smooth steps he made, gliding across the floor like an austere swan. You remember his solemn face and his aristocratic profile. But that which struck you the most was his eyes, that could have been the night for how they swallowed your attention to wander lost in that everlasting dark until you wrenched it back. And when he turned to you, a star made its presence known, shining brightly at the corners of his eyes.

You'd forgotten this dream when you woke up, but you remember a little of it now, as you stand here in the mass of strangers. You're fairly sure you're dreaming again, but for the life of you, you can't figure out how. It shouldn't be normal, you've never heard of anything like remembering old dreams within dreams, but of course if they forgot when they woke up, no one would have told anyone, you suppose. There and then, you decide to remember, and you will write it into the bestseller that will turn your fortunes around.

This is a wake, you, and everyone, are told, and you have come to remember, and then forget. Not a chance, man, sorry. Nothing's impossible, and there isn't anything that can't eventually be done. By God, you're going to be the one to do it; you're going to remember this dream.

You watch the procession. The coffin, the pallbearers, the family. The family wears anything and everything; if one could add finery and divide it to form an average, you'd call this tattered extravagance. A seeming oxymoron, yet not at all.

As you watch the coffin sail off, Viking style, save with less killing of servants and such, you recall yet again that this is a dream and so it doesn't seem as strange that the coffin is sailing off into a sea of the night sky.

You watch it grow smaller, and at the same time you are aboard the vessel, charting its progress. A boy with a stringed instrument of some sort turns away; a child throws flowers for the dead.

The coffin sails on and on, and all around the stars are winking out, one by one, each flashing out in a final swansong burst, then gone.

You recall the crisp air of the dream you shared with the deceased, and the way it felt in your lungs, pure and bright. You think of velvet soft voices and safe feel of warm blankets. You think of storms and calms and everything of this dream and all dreams that you know...

The coffin sails into the heart of the last and brightest star, and you remember, one last time, the shine of a star in a stranger's eye.  
The last star flashes.

Then it goes out.


End file.
